


Choice

by NarcissisticAsshole



Series: Salmon Petals [1]
Category: Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcissisticAsshole/pseuds/NarcissisticAsshole
Summary: "What are you doing?"He smiles, an unnatural thing, and speaks with a voice that isn't really his."Succeeding you, father."Aka, in which i decided to write Arthas killing Terenas but this time you're seeing his Thought Process TM
Series: Salmon Petals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146617
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Hi? Hello? Yes? I just did another impulsive drabble lmao and now i'm posting it because if i'm getting Warcraft III time then so are you! 
> 
> Turns out i also decided to install Warcraft III so i could replay it all over again and Gods it's amazing. I legit missed this game so much which means you're also gonna get a couple of drabbles from me about it! So yay!
> 
> Not much to say about this one, except that Arthas is incredibly fun to write and i hope you enjoy!

An exiled prince walks across the road leading to the king's throne, pace unrelenting as he mindlessly follows what he knows is his destiny. The people are happy- they watch him stride into the king's hall from above with smiles on their faces, glad to have their prince back after so many months of knowing nothing about his whereabouts.

Petals fall from above, and the prince knows that's consequence of the trees placed around the entrance to the king's hall. He's walked through here too many times to forget about a detail as ridiculous as this.

He momentarily stops, gazing above as his 'bodyguards' catch up with him. He sees a singular salmon colored petal fall from above, and he slowly aims his hand forward to catch it.

The necromancer watches it, poetic curiosity following as he wonders for the first time in what seems like forever if this is really what he's searching for.

It's not a question about what's right, or what people expect from him; he's long since surpassed those limitations. It's about what he wants for himself, he thinks, as he plays with the petal with the hand that caught it moments before.

He can still go back, he reminds himself. It's not yet too late for his corrupted soul, the prince realizes. He can still fight the plague, blame Mal'ganis for everything that he's done and plead for forgiveness.

But then the petal begins rotting in his hand.

And the exiled prince snaps out of his fantasy, crushing the salmon petal with an iron fist and brusquely walking forward, followers going after him with no reaction whatsoever to his recent actions.

He opens the paired doors with no hesitation, watching as the king's head snaps upwards to catch sight of his son's figure by the entrance of his hall.

The ex-paladin takes out Frostmourne, the frozen blade shining in all it's glory, and kneels before his father using the weapon as support.

"Ah, my son!"

Not too long after, the blade starts speaking to him. Or, perhaps, he starts speaking to his father. He's yet to differentiate his own voice from the sword's, so he remains silent until the voice stops and he snaps his head upwards with a grin.

The fallen prince stands, contemplating for a few moments what he's about to do, and takes his hood down. He stalks forward, each step weighing him even more than what it did back in Northrend, when all he could listen to were the treacherous whispers of his newly acquired sword.

Standing before his father, the prince grabs him by the neck and raises his sword, readying himself for a new impact.

"What are you  _ doing _ ?"

He smiles, an unnatural thing, and speaks with a voice that isn't really his.

"Succeeding you,  _ father _ ."

Blood taints his sword, a crown falls to the floor and Arthas turns around, facing the hall from the perspective the king did merely moments before.

And he's lost.

For a few moments, he's lost, as he watches his undead creatures fight the king's bodyguards. For a few moments, he wonders if anything could have gone differently, had he made different choices when leading up to this point.

Had he chosen not to purge Stratholme, or stayed in Lordaeron without following Mal'ganis.

Had he not taken Frostmourne when it was offered to him.

(There's no turning back now.

He's made his choice.

He's ready for what comes)


End file.
